Deep In The Bottle
by Apeygirl
Summary: Lex helps Chloe ring in her 21st birthday in his own special way. - This is my attempt to bring Chlex smut into mid-season seven and make it semi-believable.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a little Chlex to put an (evil) smile on your face.**

**Chapter One**

It was her birthday, not that it mattered. It was her damned twenty-first, too. That seemed to matter even less. It didn't matter to the boyfriend who dumped her, now cozying up to a blonde Kryptonian. It didn't matter to her best friend, now playing house with the "love of his life." Nor did it matter to her cousin, who said she would be out late working on a story. It didn't matter to anyone, really.

Chloe Sullivan was now twenty-one and there was no group of girlfriends dragging her out for margaritas. There were no blow job shots and jaeger bombs and stupid karaoke. There was just her, creeping up to the apartment above The Talon, wondering when something that should have been a milestone had become just another night.

To be fair, she would have forgotten herself. But when she'd collected her mail, she'd found a birthday coupon from Imperial Pizza. "Happy Birthday," she read, digging in her purse for her keys. "Have a free personal pizza on us." It looked like she'd be denied even that. Most things in Smallville closed at nine and it was now past ten. Gabriel had stuck her on Black Friday shopping woes for the evening edition. Boring, dry, and full of statistics. She had no idea what he had Lois on. But it better not be...

She shook her head and stabbed her key into the lock. Lois said that it was over between her and their editor. She believed her. If you couldn't believe family, who could you believe?

Then again, she was low on trust lately. Lana had been the closest female friend she had, besides Lois, of course. Now... She sighed and stretched as she closed the door. Faking her death. Chloe could forgive that. She didn't know what she'd do if she was stuck to a Luthor. But there was something about her that didn't sit right since she'd come back from Shanghai. She supposed that's why she cut off Lana's Lex-related video feed. If Lana had told her about the room, she might have understood. But something didn't sit right. Lana was secretive now. From her, from Clark... Things were changing. It was hard to know what was right, what was wrong. About the only person she truly believed in was Clark.

She toed off her shoes and moved towards the dark kitchenette. She couldn't share Clark's unfaltering belief in Lana. Maybe that was why she felt so alone, especially tonight. They were all walking on tightropes, trying to pick their way across this mess they were in. Just for one night, she'd like to take a fall. Maybe get blind drunk and do something absolutely stupid, take the edge off.

She looked under the sink. Lois usually kept a bottle of something-or-other there. She groaned, finding only Drain-o and cleanser. She stomped a bare foot. Considering it was her twenty-first, having a drink was an undeniable right. It just figured even that would go sour. She opened the fridge. "Not even a beer. Not a fucking drop of alcohol in the place."

"I wouldn't say that," a voice drawled from behind her.

She didn't even have to turn. She'd know the smooth tone. She could even see the smirk on his face. She straightened and closed the fridge, bathing the room in darkness again. She turned slowly, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he'd startled her.

He was sitting at the table off the kitchenette. The scant light from the street hit the top of his bald head. "Mind telling me what you're doing here, Luthor?"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to bridgemoss for the favorite, Roserville for the follow, and Megabat for the review. _

_If you want to see a story banner, it's here: _

_ . /-sRG4efWZ2Vo/T56Bsh-mOMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/tIKg67uSX30/s400/Deep_in_the_ _

**Chapter Two **

Lex's eyes had adjusted. By the time he heard the door unlock, he could see everything in the cramped apartment. He smiled as he watched her move through the apartment, shedding shoes and a purse. It was a little like the feeling he'd had as a kid, hiding, waiting to jump out and a scare a friend. Almost gleeful.

Of course, they weren't friends. They were as far from friendly as people got nowadays. The cutest pet name she had for him was "snake." He had a few for her. "Nosy bitch" was a bit of a favorite. She walked right past him toward the tiny kitchenette. He smiled again. _Losing your edge, Sullivan?_

He watched her bend low to open the cabinet with some interest. The skirt slit up the back. If it wasn't so dark, he could see what color panties she wore. When she straightened, he wasn't too disappointed. Probably wore spinster white. She was single again, after all.

His eyes followed her as she groaned and opened the fridge, silhouetted against the light. She'd cut her hair. He'd noticed she'd let it grow with Olsen. He must like his blondes with long hair. He'd moved onto Clark's cousin, after all. Something about those Kents...

"Not even a beer," she hissed. "Not a fucking drop of alcohol in the place."

He smiled. If there ever was a perfect time to reveal himself... "I wouldn't say that."

He leaned back in the chair, dangling the bag from his fingers, watched her stiffen and close the fridge. She didn't jump, though. _Good for you, Sullivan._

She faced him slowly, her eyes wary. "Mind telling me what you're doing here, Luthor?"

He smiled. "Just a friendly visit."

"Likely." She flipped on the hanging light above the table.

He winced slightly. "That's bright."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He squinted slightly as she crossed her arms. "I know you prefer skulking around in the dark, but some of us would rather see what you're up to." She tilted her head to the side. "How did you get in?"

He stood, deciding to ignore her snide _skulking_remark. "As your landlord, I happen to have a key."

She narrowed her eyes and leaned against the fridge. "Jesus. Remind me again why we continue to live here. What do you want?" She looked around. "I mean, I don't see any ransacked drawers and overturned furniture. What gives?"

He chuckled slightly. "Believe it or not, I am just here for a friendly visit." She raised an eyebrow, but was otherwise silent. "A birthday visit." He held out the bag dangling from his right hand. "Happy birthday, Sullivan."

She stared at the long, red bag, but didn't take it. "Gee, thanks. Why don't you run along while I call the bomb squad?"

He placed the bag on the table, holding his smile. "That's one reason I didn't drop it off. Well... that and the fact that something like this really should be delivered in person." He left the bag in the middle of the table and waited.

"You seriously expect me to accept a present from you?" She shook her head. "Why would you even do this? Since when have you been concerned with my birthday? How did you even know it was my..."

"The answer to all questions," he said, cutting her off, "is Lana. She'd programmed your birthday into my PDA. As far as why..." He smiled and sat down again. "You did do me a little favor, cutting off Lana's surveillance."

She smirked. "You knew about that." She threw up her hands and pushed away from the fridge. "Of course you did. You just have your hand in all the pies, don't you, Luthor?" She stepped up to him, towered above him as he was seated. "What I did was not for your sake. It was for Lana. She needs to get clear of you in every way. Maybe then she can come back from..." She shook her head. "Why am I even talking to you?" She picked up the bag and thrust it at him. "Take your stupid present and go."

He held the bag and stood, happy to tower over her again. "Oh, I'm sorry." He tilted his head slightly. "I thought you wanted a drink."

She stepped away, her brows furrowed. "Oh, so it's booze. What's in it, a concoction brewed up in one of your labs? Because I know for a fact you..."

"Christ, Sullivan." He closed his eyes and sighed. The one time he tried to do something genuinely nice... Well, nice enough. It wasn't as if this was completely out of the goodness of his heart. He ripped the bag away and let it drop. He held the bottle up. "This happens to be a blended scotch from Chivas Regal." He held it up, admiring the ornate blue bottle. "Royal Salute. Twenty-one, much like you. It was released in 2003 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's coronation." He caressed it lightly. "It also happens to be worth ten thousand dollars."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Ten thou..." She released a short breath. "And what happens if I drink it?" She tilted her chin upward. "Do I start spilling my deepest darkest secrets or..."

"You know what?" He side stepped her and moved to the kitchenette. "There's only one way to settle this." He moved to the cabinet and took out a small tumbler. Not as nice as what this liquor deserved, but it would do. He opened the bottle, glancing sideways once at her mutinous expression. He poured two fingers and took up the glass. "Here's mud in your eye," he said before downing the glass. He closed his eyes. He'd had better, of course, but it was nice. "Smooth," he breathed. He opened his eyes.

She was looking from him to the empty glass and back again. Her mouth was slightly open and she looked as if she was torn between slapping him and taking the bottle for herself.

He leaned toward her. "Is this where I spill my deepest darkest secrets?"

Her eyes narrowed and she grasped the bottle. "Oh, give me that!" He watched with some surprise as she took the bottle and brought it to her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the follow, **Kimba101**. And I agree, **Megabat**:

_*Snicker* I love these two together. I think the show dropped the ball there. But that's what fan fiction is for to fix what the show messed up *g* Love the snarking cant wait to see whats next._

I suppose I'd never have written a fic if the show gave me what I wanted. But it would have been so awesome if they'd at least done an alternate universe episode with the Chlex. Imagine how many vids it would have given birth to. ;)

**Chapter Three**

She wasn't much of a judge of hard liquor. She'd been to the odd college party by now. Those had been full of beer and jello shots, mixed drinks. Nothing like this. Her eyes teared up slightly as she swallowed. She put the bottle down and leaned against the counter, gulping air.

She heard Lex chuckle beside her. "You okay there?"

"Shut up." She straightened and turned to him, holding the bottle up again. "I don't get it."

"Yes. You've made that clear."

"Why does my birthday warrant expensive liquor when I..." She inhaled suddenly. "Hate you," she breathed. She could feel it now. A sort of warmth that spread from her stomach to her throat. "Wow."

"Nice, isn't it?"

She looked up. He was smirking again. "Maybe the liquor. I can't say the same for the company."

He nodded. "Ah, but what other option do you have?" He moved closer and she leaned away. He was only reaching above her, though. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took another glass from the cabinet, gathering his with it. "For the record, I'm not too fond of you. But how do you want to remember this birthday, Chloe?" He took the bottle from her hands. "The night you sat alone in your cramped, little place or..." He moved to the table and placed the bottle and glasses down. "The night you shared a bottle of rare scotch whiskey with your worst enemy?" He turned back to her, a half-smile on his lips. "It's at least a talking point."

"So wait..." She scoffed. "You seriously think that I'd swill scotch with you just because it's better than being alone?"

He removed his coat. "So you're admitting it's better?"

"I didn't say that. I said..." But she had. _Was it better?_ She stared at him as he leaned against the table, silent. She'd had her birthday drink, technically. She could easily kick him out now. Curl up with a book and... God, was she really that pathetic? Her choices of companionship boiled down to book or bald evil man. She straightened her shoulders and moved to the table, sitting down slowly.

He took the seat opposite her, that ever-present smirk there. "I thought you might..."

She slapped a hand on the table. "Just shut up and pour, Luthor."

**SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV**

Lex pushed the glass across the table toward her. "Sip slowly this time. Something like this should be appreciated."

"Why? Because it's expensive? Isn't ten thousand to you just a twenty to me?"

"Because it's rare," he corrected.

She smiled rather smugly. "I bet you paid more than it's worth."

"I didn't pay anything for it." He sipped, letting the scotch just trickle down his throat. "It was a gift from an investor."

She sipped her own. "Investor or a co-conspirator on one of your little..."

"A Luthorcorp investor." He leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "And you still refuse to believe I've changed. Why is that?"

She shrugged and sipped again. "Personal experience. There is not one thing you do that doesn't have a nefarious little scheme behind it." She leaned forward. "Take tonight. Let's just say that I have nothing better to do than sit here with you." She glanced down. "I'm not saying that's true, but suppose it is."

He found himself smiling. "Because it is."

Her eyes snapped up to his. "What's the draw for you?"

He gulped down the rest of his drink. It was better than answering. To be honest, he wasn't sure what the draw was. He'd hardly looked at his PDA until after nine. He'd been about to open this same bottle when he'd seen it on the side table. That was when he saw the flashing message. "Don't forget Chloe's birthday. Love, Lana." He remembered the day she'd done that, screwing around with his things. It was before the wedding and that time was as close to a honeymoon as they got. Her putting little touches everywhere. He'd been giddy with it at the time, even as annoying as it was. It felt so nearly like she'd truly loved him.

_I can't believe you don't have any birthday reminders in here. Not even for your father. Do you even know the date?_

_I have assistants to remember these things._

_Well, I'm putting Chloe's in._

_She's your friend, not mine._

_What's mine is yours,_ she'd said, smiling. _So she's our friend._

Of course, she hadn't been. All through his relationship with Lana, every time he'd seen her, she'd had a suspicious eye on him. And any happiness with Lana had disappeared after the wedding. He'd known it had to do with Clark. Everything did. She'd never loved him, not really.

When that message had flashed, he'd found himself thinking of Chloe. A Kent had swooped in on her, too. Or maybe that was Lana. It was no secret that Chloe would drop anything for Clark Kent, even her child of a boyfriend. If there was anyone who was as pathetic as he tonight, it was her.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hello? Are you going to answer me?"

He put his glass down. "I'm sorry. I must have forgotten the question," he lied.

She rolled her eyes, then downed the rest of her glass. "Don't give me that. We aren't that deep in the bottle." She shuddered slightly and picked up said bottle and poured another for herself, then him. "What exactly would make you decide to drop everything and come over here?"

"Everything? You mean rambling around empty rooms, playing pool with myself, late supper for one? That kind of everything?"

She sighed. "So you're playing the lonely billionaire card? Am I supposed to buy that? Should I feel sorry for you?"

He picked up his glass. "Of course not. You have no room to feel sorry for anyone."

She stiffened slightly. "Meaning?"

He took a slow sip. He was glad he'd been able to turn things back to her, but he still liked making her wait for it. Chloe craved answers the way he craved power. "You just plod on through life, don't you?" He smiled. "You work hard, stay loyal and you think it's all going to pay off eventually. But what do you have?" He tilted his head to the side, studying her tight expression. "You have a job where you just can't get ahead." He tried not to smile at that. He did, after all, play a role there. Not that she knew it... yet. "A failed relationship," he went on. "The man you want constantly out of your grasp."

"Jimmy and I broke up by mutual..."

"I wasn't talking about Jimmy."

She flushed. He didn't miss it, even as she tried to cover by picking up her glass and swallowing its contents in one gulp. He should probably warn her to slow down. But he didn't want to lose track of where they were going. Her misery was nearly palpable. _Yes. Join me,_ he thought.

"Clark and I are friends," she said, her jaw tight.

"And that's all you want?" He laughed slightly and shook his head. "You can't fool me, Sullivan. Clark may be about as sharp as a bowling ball, but..."

"Isn't it funny that you brought it back to Clark," she said, slamming her glass down and pushing it away. "Because that's obviously why you're here. You're convinced I'm holding some secret of his and you think getting me drunk will..."

"Oh, I know you're holding some secret of his, but that's not the point of this night."

"Then what is the point?" She yelled the last, standing up, planting her hands wide on the table, nearly leaning over him. He was momentarily side-tracked by the view down her blouse. He'd give her one thing- she could certainly fill out a blouse.

"The point," he said, happy to stay calm when she was so... not, "is that misery loves company."

She drew back. "I'm not miserable."

"Really?" He loosened his tie slightly, getting comfortable. He was never more comfortable than when everyone else was perturbed. "So your life is exactly where you want it to be?" He shook his head again. "At least I can say I'm where I am because I f*cked up. But you... very sad."

"No sadder than you," she shot back. She shook herself and sat back down. "Does it ever bother you that absolutely no one wants to be around you? The only company your misery could find is someone who detests you and everything you touch."

"Oh? And where are all of your friends? Obviously not ringing in the birthday with you..."

"If I called them, they'd be here." She lifted her chin. "Do you have anyone in your life you could say that for?" She smiled. "And let's not count the help."

He clenched his teeth. "B*tch."

She smiled wider. "Oh, was that low? I'm sorry. My head must have been turned by all those lovely things you said to me." She raised an eyebrow. "What? You can dish it out, but you can't take it? Color me astonished."

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

_"Ouch, these two really can get very nasty when they get going. But still they are sitting drinking. Love it, every barb bang on target, every comment designed to garner a reaction. Every retort designed to sting. Damn but Chloe was such a better match for Lex than wishy washy self absorbed Lana. More please :)"_

Thanks, **Megabat. **That's what draws me to Chlex, too. Chloe's snark vs. Lex's cool barbs. Even when they went at each other on the show, I was mentally willing them to kiss. :)

And thanks for the follow, ** .Venus**

**Chapter Four**

God, it felt good. It wasn't just the alcohol, though she had no complaints there. In fact, she loved it, the way her limbs felt warm and surrounded. It was as if she was immersed in a pool, bathwater-warm and slightly thick. Every movement felt curiously like a little swim. It was relaxing, especially now that he seemed so on-edge. _Yeah, Luthor. Take that._

Encounters between them had never been anything but this, underneath. Her trying to topple him from his position of power and him trying to convince her how little she really mattered. But she knew what mattered and what didn't. It didn't matter that Clark and Lana were cozied up, forgetting her. If she called, he would come - maybe even Lana would. It didn't matter whether Lois was working on a story or not. She would come, too. What mattered was that she wasn't so low she had to call them. In fact, she was on top of the world right now.

"You see, Luthor," she said steadily, holding his slightly venomous stare. "Even if you were capable of pity for anyone, you're the one with no room to feel it. You are as alone as anyone could be, for all your money and power. If you died tomorrow, half the world wouldn't care. The other half would throw a party." She shook her head. "Very sad."

He crossed his arms and leaned back, but he wasn't fooling her. She could see a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Strong words, Sullivan. You've always had a way with them. It's a shame no one ever gets to see them. How long have you worked at The Planet now? Almost two years?" He smiled. "Words gets around, you know. Like the fact that your cousin, after only weeks, has been sent away on assignments to Los Angeles, New York. But you, toiling away for years, but still covering transit problems, dry city hall reports."

It didn't faze her. He was just changing tacks. That just meant she was winning. "Oh, that could change real quick, Luthor. If I published a fraction of the dirt I have on you, I'd have a Pulitzer."

He inclined his head. "Why don't you go ahead and try it, Sullivan?"

"Oh, I can wait. Slow and steady wins the race, Luthor. I don't expect you to get it."

"I've read Aesop's fables." He poured himself another drink. "They're very pretty lies," he said, before downing it.

"I guess you'd know all about pretty lies," she countered.

"So would you. I mean, isn't that what lost you a boyfriend?"

"Oh, let's not go back to that, Luthor." She reached for the bottle and poured one for herself. "You can't pity me for losing one boyfriend, with whom I had a full year. I mean, how many wives has it been? Three now?" She tilted her head. "Not even a year with any of them." She raised her glass to him before draining it.

"Oh, I guess you and your one boyfriend makes you the expert. What is your secret to year-long happiness? Or is it all in who you pick. I mean, Jimmy Olsen..." He smiled. "What a conquest."

Chloe placed her glass down. "Jimmy is sweet and loyal and..."

"Yes. And easy to please. Like a puppy that way. You can throw him scraps, but really save it all for..."

"That's not true." It wasn't. She had cared for Jimmy. She had. "I gave Jimmy everything I..."

"Not the truth," he cut in, sitting up straighter. "That would just be a little too intimate to share with someone you had no real intention of staying with. Best to save your secrets for the one you really want."

"And you, too," she said, stiffening her spine, "however unwillingly. You know a little too much about my secrets. I mean, after what you did to me, to my mother..."

"Come now," he said, suddenly sitting back again. "Let's not bring up the past." He grasped the bottle. "Things might turn unpleasant," he said, bringing the bottle to his lips.

"Unpleasant?" She let out a hoarse bark of laughter. She stood on wobbly legs and came around the table. "You and I would have a long climb upward just to get to unpleasant." She grasped the bottle, satisfied when some of it sloshed on his face and neck. "That's it. I officially can't do this." She slammed the bottle on the table. "See, there's a problem with drinking with your enemy. Alcohol only brings out the truth." And a hell of a punch. She leaned hard on the table. The damn room was moving around.

She glanced up as he stood as well, wiping his face with his sleeve. "It also exaggerates it."

She closed her eyes and breathed deep. "I don't need to exaggerate anything you've done to me, to Clark, to Lana. It's bad enough." She opened her eyes and stepped away from the table, only weaving slightly. "Kidnapping, illegal experiments, the torture of innocent meteor..."

"Innocent?" he snapped. "Mutants with dangerous powers. I've seen things you couldn't even wrap your mind around." His eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you could. After all, you could be one of them. Any day now, Sullivan, you could snap just like the..."

"Get out," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"You don't understand," he said quietly. "None of you ever did."

"I understand. You want control. You want control of everything and everyone around you."

"I wanted answers. But you, Clark, Lana... None of you ever let me in."

"Oh, so it's our fault?" She pushed at his chest, but he didn't move. "After what you did to me..."

"And for you," he cut in, grasping her arm, holding it between them. "I hid you for months, protected you."

"For your own reasons," she sneered, pulling at her arm. "If I wasn't a key witness against Lionel, you would have let me burn."

"That's not true. Over and over, every single one of you has accepted help from me with one hand, then pointed that handy finger of blame with the other. Bunch of self righteous..."

"I accepted your protection one time, years ago," she growled. "And I was only in danger because I was helping you. And even that was about control, not justice." She finally pulled her arm free and staggered backward. Her mind seemed to work, but her body was another story. "You just..." She weaved slightly. There went the mind. "You just wanted to control Daddy's empire. Hardly anything more to it than that." She leaned against the wall. "That's all you want. Control. God help the world if you ever get it."

She watched with bleary eyes as he moved closer. "You say that now. Maybe you even believe it's true. But history will remember everything I've done differently."

"You have an exaggerated idea of your own importance, Luthor." She shook her head, hearing the swish of her own hair against the wall. "History will remember you as a thug with a big checkbook."

"Really?" He towered over her. She cursed her damned bare feet. "And what about you? Do you think anything you do matters, Sullivan?"

She nearly laughed. "Isn't that just the point of all of this? You came over here, be the big bad Luthor, make sure tiny little Sullivan knows how very little she matters." She grasped his tie. His eyes widened. "I matter," she said, pulling down hard. "You can't stand that I matter. I could take you down in a second with what I have."

He grasped her hand and pulled at the knot of his tie. Her damned motor skills weren't up to stopping him as he loosened it and pulled it off over his head. "You can't take me down," he sneered, backing up a step, leaving her holding his tie. "You're too afraid of the consequences."

"Don't tempt me." She tossed the tie at him as hard as she could, wishing it was heavier. It only slid down his shirt and to the floor. "The way my life's going, your consequences might be a picnic."

"Then it must be pretty bad," he said with a sudden flash of teeth. "Good to hear you finally admit it."

She lurched forward. "F*ck you."

He smiled wider. "You should. You probably need it."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_Here's another chapter._

_Warning: Things are about to get naughty in here. ;)_

**Chapter 5**

_She lurched forward. "F*ck you."_

He smiled wider. "You should. You probably need it."

He hadn't planned to say that, but he'd certainly been thinking it. It had been hovering at the back of his mind since she'd first bent to look under the sink. She had such nice, compact curves. Sturdy, lightly muscled calves and arms. It made him wonder if she liked it hard. She should. She was built for it.

Now, with her blazer hanging open, her blouse half-untucked, her face flushed with alcohol and anger... He wondered if he'd ever get the idea of a hard f*ck with Chloe Sullivan out of his mind after tonight.

Her fists clenched at her sides, but she didn't move to hit him. He was glad for it. He didn't like being hit by girls. You weren't supposed to hit back, after all.

"There's a man's response for you," she said, her lip curling up. "Is that supposed to put me in my place?"

"Not at all," he said. "It was more of an observation."

He felt a frisson of triumph when she stepped back slightly. "A sick, twisted kind of..."

He advanced a step. "I'd just bet you've never been f*cked in your life."

She took another step back. "Stop it," she said, her eyes darting everywhere, but avoiding his. "You have no right to say..."

"And I'm not talking about sweet, fumbling, vanilla sex with Olsen," he went on. "I'm talking about something where you actually break a sweat."

Her back hit the wall at the same time her eyes met his. They were wide and dark. Dilated pupils. An unconscious attraction response. He was sure of it then. He would f*ck Chloe Sullivan this night. The only variable was how.

**SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV SV **

She felt sweat break out on her upper lip as she pressed herself closer to the wall. "No." She swallowed hard. "As a matter of fact, I've made love. Something _you've_ never done in your life." Her mind was reeling. She'd been nearly rid of him. This entire insane night was ending and now he was... What? Sexually harassing her? Probably. So why the hell wasn't she slapping him?

Lex smiled. "Oh, I've made love. Even to women I hardly knew. You have to give them what they want." He chuckled and leaned a hand against the wall next to her. God, why couldn't she move? "Some women like it soft and slow. It's easy to get caught up in the fantasy myself. But some women just want you to grab them by the..."

She moved then. Stepping to the side and away. Something had shifted here. "What are you doing?"

He pushed away from the wall and turned to her. "Just making conversation."

She shook her head. "This is not a conversation." The things he was saying were too... _Wrong. Dirty. Hot._ "Sick," she said quickly, trying to stop her mind from taking it there. "This is a sick game." She backed toward the living room.

He followed. "I like sick games."

"I just bet you do." She retreated further, putting the coffee table between them.

"I just bet you would, too." He licked his lips.

Even though he didn't move, she took another step back. She couldn't believe this. Lex Luthor was pretty much chasing her around her apartment. And what was she doing? Running away. She wasn't the girl who ran away. She was the girl who met things head-on. That was exactly the problem somehow. She was not too eager for the meeting part. "I think you should leave," she said, crossing her arms.

He smiled, his teeth catching slightly on one side of his bottom lip. "I don't think that's what you think."

"Well, it is. So just..." She made a beeline for the door. She didn't make it, though. Her liquored limbs and hazy mind betrayed her. She tripped over the leg of the coffee table, falling on one of her discarded shoes. "Damn it!" She rolled over, tossing the shoe.

"Oh, did you hurt yourself?"

She looked up. He was standing right above her. It was like the moment in the horror movie when the girl fell running from the masked killer. That was when she usually got it. Of course, in her case _it_ might not be a knife in the stomach, but a...

"Let me help you." He leaned down.

She scrambled backwards and got to her feet. "I'm fine," she said quickly, rubbing her hip. Even through the haze, it stung. She was glad she didn't wear stilettos.

"You're hurt," he said, glancing down. "Want me to take a look at that?"

She shook her head frantically. "You're not taking a look at any of me." She took another step, nearly stumbling again. "I'm fine," she repeated.

"You're drunk," he drawled. "I should put you to bed."

She stared, wide-eyed at him. _No. No way. This is not happening._ She didn't know how to handle this Lex Luthor. The one who threw hate and insults, even illegal acts at her... That was something she could at least wrap her mind around. But this one-with his silken tone and hooded eyes. This was one was... _Laying it on a little thick,_ she realized, narrowing her eyes. And wasn't it exactly like him to change tacks when he was losing? That was what this night was about: who won and who lost. On a smaller scale, it was everything between them played out.

So what was the game now? Probably something he'd learned from his father. She remembered what Lionel had done to her when he passed himself off as Clark. She hadn't understood it at the time. But Clark had explained nearly a year later. She was not about to play the scared little girl. She was not about to have him run off, a winner, just after she surrendered.

She took the hand that was on her hip and slid it down her thigh, then up again. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

His eyes widened, but he seemed to recover quickly. "You'd like it, too."

"I don't know." She moved toward the front door, slowly... and successfully this time. "Sleeping with the enemy is typically considered undesirable and, in some cases, dangerous."

"Dangerous?" He tilted his head. "Maybe. But undesirable?" His eyes travelled the length of her. "Definitely not."

"Well, it's not unheard of, I guess." She arched her back away from the door. "Two adversaries working together on a joint project."

"Happens all the time," he said, a half-smile on his lips as he moved closer.

"Could be a learning experience."

He was right in front of her now. _Almost_... "I'd love to teach you a few things."

"So... How about it, then? Less talk, more..." She smiled. "Teach," she finished, wetting her own lips.

He leaned down slowly. She waited, grasping the doorknob. He had to close his eyes first or he'd ruin the surprise. It seemed an eternity, but they finally slid shut. She turned the knob and pushed backwards, holding tight to the door. Her head spun as it swung outwards, but she managed to stay upright. Lex, however, was another story. If she gained nothing else from this, the image of Lex Luthor flailing his arms and stumbling forward would keep her warm at night. She pushed at his back, savoring the image of him sprawled on the landing for a moment before moving inward and pulling the door shut. She turned the lock quickly.

"Great lesson," she yelled through the door. "Have a good night."

She heard shuffling on the other side. So he wasn't unconscious. _Darn. _"Chloe... you might as well let me in."

"And you might as well go to hell." She strolled toward the dining room. "Who's the winner now?" she called over her shoulder. She spotted the bottle on the table. Not much left now. She was about to indulge herself in a victory sip when she spotted his coat, still flung over the chair. "Oh, you forgot your coat. Cold out, too. I hope you walked." She poured a little scotch on the coat before lifting the bottle to her lips. She hoped expensive scotch and had as lingering a smell as it did a punch.

She heard a click behind her. "You forgot something, too."

She turned slowly, the bottle suspended just in front of her lips.

"I have a key," he said, dangling it from his fingers before placing it in his pocket.

"F*ck."

He smiled. "Glad you agree." He moved toward her.

"No," she breathed. "This is over. You don't get to win."

He pursed his lips and moved closer still. "Why can't we call it a tie? You could win, too."

She felt the edge of the table on her bottom. "I don't want to win with you."

"But I want you to win, Chloe." He took the bottle from her numb hand. "I want make you win till you can't walk."

Her eyes nearly rolled backward. _Walk_. She was having a hard enough time standing. He brought the bottle to his mouth and drained the last of what should have been her victory sip. He tossed it behind him. The dull crash jarred her, waking up her senses just as his hands found her hips. "No." She pushed weakly at his chest. "This is not how this ends."

"No, it isn't." He leaned down, his head moving out of her bleary vision. "Because it's not over," he said against her ear.

Her hands somehow went from pushing to gripping fistfuls of his shirt. "But... This is so... wrong," she finished on a gasp as his teeth nipped her earlobe.

His lips traveled down her neck. "I know."

"I hate you," she whispered as her hands slid to his shoulders.

"Likewise." The hands on her hips moved downwards, gathering her skirt. His fingertips brushed her outer thighs as his lips slid up to her jaw. "That's what makes this so good."

Was he right? Did hate make for better sex? She'd loved Jimmy... in her way. But the sex? She'd never come, not that he knew it. She'd never have hurt Jimmy by letting him think it was less than wonderful. She'd only ever come alone by her own hand. She figured some girls were just that way. Now...

His hand slid under her bunched-up skirt, slipping inside her panties, zeroing in on her clitoris without fail... without direction, even. She inhaled sharply, tasting the booze on his breath as his lips hovered above hers. Two fingers moved in quick, tight circles. She closed her eyes on a moan.

"God, you're wet already." He sounded smug. She'd be pissed if she wasn't so busy watching colors burst behind her eyelids.

Her body jerked upwards. Her teeth clicked with his and she opened her eyes. She figured they'd meet fangs-first. Nothing would ever be soft or pretty between them. Even when his lips finally met hers, it was hard, probing, punctuated by quick nips and softly growled obscenities.

His tongue touched hers just as his fingers stilled. She gripped his arm, trying to pull his hand back. His mouth left hers. She opened her eyes, wondering if this was how he wanted to win. Working her into this state, then leaving her. "No," she whispered, gripping his neck, trying to pull him back. "Don't you dare..."

Her words cut off as he gripped her hips and lifted upward. Her skirt was still bunched. The table felt slightly cold against the backs of her thighs. She shivered slightly as he pulled her thighs apart. She shook in earnest when he dropped to his knees, his eyes hard on hers. She'd never... Jimmy hadn't...

"No," she moaned, trying to close her thighs. "Oh, no."

He held them apart, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "Oh, yes..."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm just so sorry for the wait on me getting this one up. Have had a busy holiday season with work. but also _

_Thanks to __**Megali**__ and __**CoolNick44**__ for the reviews and to __**beautifulcurare **__for the follow!_

**Chapter Six**

He knew what he was doing. Despite all the alcohol he'd had, he knew just what to do. Because, despite all she'd had to drink, she was in danger of sobering up. He couldn't have that happen. Not yet. Not before he made her come.

She could push him away then, call him a snake, push him out the door again. But he'd have her writhing first. If there was ever a way to win, this was it.

Then every time she saw him, accused him, sneered at him, she'd know what he'd done to her. She squirmed away as he knelt lower. It was almost sweet. Despite all Chloe knew, she was still just a green girl. She'd only been with Olsen, as far as he knew.

"What a waste," he murmured, gripping one thigh tight. He reached in, finding the edge of her panties. He still hadn't seen them. They didn't feel spinster white. They felt slippery, silky. He pulled one side, then the other as she stared down at him.

"I don't..."

"Shhh." He smiled as he slipped the panties to her knees. Purple. He wondered if she had a matching bra. He really should have stripped her down first, but there would be time. She had to come first, then she couldn't sober up and realize how wrong this really was. And it was wrong. All kinds of dirty, sexy wrong. He was about to f*ck his ex-wife's best friend... or was he?

How exactly did things stand between Lana and Chloe?

Did it even matter?

When the idea had first popped into his head, he'd thought it was a charming notion. Not something he'd do, really, but then... He'd seen it on her. Hell, he'd smelled it on her. Attraction. The nervous fidgeting, the eyes that darted around the tiny apartment, the clumsy movements... Sex with him might not be something that Chloe Sullivan had a long think on. But her mind had flirted with it. His, too. He was sure she, much like he, had dismissed the idea as ludicrous and yet... Well, throw in really good scotch and who knew what could happen?

Apparently, this. He smiled, inhaling the scent of her. Lana had been a fan of some perfume that smelled like baby powder. He'd tolerated it. But Chloe... She smelled of soap, a little like coffee, and a lot like pure, heady woman. He pushed her thighs wider even as she squirmed. Didn't she know that she should be thanking her lucky stars? It wasn't often that he had to resort to oral sex to seal the deal. Usually, the idea of his money was enough to have a woman on her back. But Chloe... She was a special case. Money didn't matter to her. She dealt in truth.

Well, he wasn't about to give that to her. But this... He pushed her skirt to her waist, ignoring her tiny, half-hearted protests.

So she was new to cunnilingus. Not for long.

He swooped in, immediately wrapping his lips around her clit. She stilled then, the room silent but for the light sound of sucking.

Oh, she was ripe for this. She'd pined for Clark for years, only to settle for a boy of a man who probably only gave her missionary and murmured sweet words. She wasn't someone who needed sweet words. He could tell. She needed to be taken, hard and ruthless. She wouldn't get that from Olsen. She'd never get it from Clark, blind as he was.

He'd give it to her. Someone had to.

He heard her cry out hoarsely above him. He knew her embarrassment wouldn't last long.

Her hands gripped his head. He sucked harder, flicking his tongue up and down firmly. Her hands slid over his scalp, nails scraping lightly. There was one thing to be said for baldness. His scalp, he'd learned, was an entire erogenous zone. He hummed against her and she bucked upwards.

Any second now... He sped up his tongue, sucked harder. She had to be sated, boneless. It was the only way to be sure she wouldn't suddenly decide this was a bad idea. He'd hardly realized how invested he was in having her. But now... He looked up, not slowing, never stopping.

Her hands left his head as her upper body flopped to the table. The wood groaned slightly. _God_, she was responsive. He wondered if once would be enough. Generally, it was. But Lana... The challenge of her purity, the tantalizing idea of her love, something Clark wanted so desperately, were things he needed to explore. And Helen - the enigma that was her, a doctor, sworn to do no harm. And yet she'd nearly destroyed him. Desiree... Well, he could chalk that up to meteor rocks, like most things in this town.

But Chloe... He'd be lying if he thought this wasn't tied up with Clark Kent. Chloe was Clark's help-mate, his greatest champion. And who was it giving her what she needed?

Not Clark. He was a fool. Lex had experienced life with Lana. It looked great on paper, but Lana would never let go... Not of her juvenile notions of what love was... of Clark. Chloe wouldn't either, not deep down. But here, now, he could give her what Clark never would. Sex wasn't about love. He believed that it was need, grasping and desperate.

If he'd learned only one thing in his dealings with Chloe Sullivan, it was what she needed. Maybe that was why, when they locked horns, his last retort was against her love life. It hit her where she lived, on a primal level. The constant rejection from Clark had reduced her to this: a brilliant woman settling for a silly boy. Why? Because Jimmy made her feel needed. Chloe was drawn to what needed her. Clark needed her skills so he could bust into Lex's house and point the finger. Jimmy had needed her, too. To feel important, as Lex was sure he couldn't believe his luck.

But Lex? He didn't need her. He just wanted her. The feel of her now, the memory of her later. That was what she really needed. That was what Chloe Sullivan was missing: just being wanted, not for her mind, but for her body. It was both basic and complicated. She needed to feel like a woman, not a brain with legs.

And who was giving it to her? Not Clark who she sacrificed for. Not Jimmy, who wouldn't know what to do with a woman on his best day.

It was him. Her enemy. No one ever knew you better than your enemy.

Her legs tightened on either side of him. He grasped them and brought them to his shoulders. He needed to get closer, work harder. As much as her moans spurred him on, he knew Chloe was buried deep within that mind of hers. He wanted her to feel, not f*cking think her way out of an orgasm just because of who he was. _Come on, Chloe. You need this. Take it._ The sooner she took what she needed, the sooner he could have what he wanted. Total possession. That mind, that body, and _him._ The unavoidable end. He'd have her tonight. And who the f*ck cared about tomorrow?

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

_And here's another. _

_Thanks so much to __**cwatker222 **__for the follow and to __**sexysiren1981**__ for the follow, favorite and review…_

"_ok, im actually a huge lexana fan but i really love lex so i was_

_drawn to this fic because your writing is great and i think you have captured_

_lex perfectly, its hard to do, i know! Very sexy fic, please continue soon!_

_Have always loved chloe too but with oliver. This is new to me and_

_surprisingly wonderful :) i will be waiting..."_

_What can I say? There's something fun about diving into all the fun variety of multi-shipping and, of course, the sexy, sexy darkness of Chlex. If you ever find yourself wanting more, join the Naughty Seduction Forums. Lots of amazing Chlex there!_

_And thanks to __**beautifulcurare**__ …_

"_Chlex is one of my favorite pairings and I absolutely love the way you're_

_writing them...so glad I ran across this fic :)"_

_Thanks so much! I really enjoy this ship and there's more to come._

**Chapter Seven**

Orgasms.

They were great. She'd given herself plenty, sometimes even multiples with her hand and with... well, devices. Supposedly innocent neck massagers, for instance. But there was something to be said for another hand... or mouth. She wasn't an idiot. She knew this was done. She'd just never been on the receiving end of it, herself. The idea was embarrassing, messy. How could anyone want to? But, from the first touch of his lips, all of that had gone out the window.

She could feel her pulse fluttering in forbidden places. And it was due to Lex Luthor. It was probably best not to think too deeply. If she did, she'd push him away. And what was the point of that now? She should have done that before his lips first touched her skin. She was screwed now, either way. Knowing this could have happened wasn't much better than knowing it did.

Perhaps it was best to enjoy the ride. Especially when it was so...

"Oh, my God..."

Of course. She might have known he'd know just what to do. Maybe she should be glad he'd probably had more women than she'd had shoes. It had taught him _this_. This being the kind of mouth and tongue action that put every experience she'd had, alone or accompanied, to shame. And why shouldn't she enjoy it?

She felt his hands grip her hip. She hissed slightly as one pressed on her recent bruise. He only dug in harder. She looked down. His eyes were boring into hers. She closed her eyes quickly, throwing her head back. It was a little too much and yet... Wasn't that half of why she was ready to come after only minutes? That it was him? Usually it took such a long time to relax enough, to let go enough to come. Here, there was no relaxation, only tension that coiled tighter and tighter inside her. And damned if she wasn't about to come this way, with every muscle clenched, every nerve screaming.

Her hands flew outward, knocking one glass off with a crash and sending another skittering to the edge. Her head hit the table. It might have hurt if any of her blood flowed up north. But it all seemed to gather in the place he licked, sucked... even scraped with his teeth.

Usually, she came with a sigh. She knew, even before it began building in her throat, that tonight she'd come with a scream. It was nearly frightening and her hands frantically scrambled outward, grabbing the first thing she touched. She brought his liquor-soaked coat to her face and let go, smelling his cologne, scotch, and expensive wool. Hearing her own cries, muffled slightly, as her insides clenched, her blood raced, her mind numbed...

She heard his low chuckle as she came to. Light assaulted her eyes as the coat moved from her face. She watched with bleary eyes as he used it to wipe his face, grimacing once as he sniffed the alcohol she'd poured on it. "Nice touch," he said, smirking.

"Back at you," she mumbled, wincing slightly when she realized she'd said it aloud. As if he needed to be more conceited.

He chuckled again and she felt a hand pulling at her blouse, running up under it, fingers sliding over her skin. "I was wrong about you," he said, leaning over her as she lay boneless on the table. "I thought you were wound up too tight, like a little schoolmarm. Probably couldn't come at all. But it's not you, is it?" His lips glanced over her jaw before moving to her mouth. "Nobody's ever touched you right," he said against her mouth.

God, she wished he would just shut the f*ck up. It was so much easier to enjoy the tingles racing all over her body if she could just forget they were caused by Lex.

"Not even Clark?" His lips moved to her neck. "I mean, I thought you two had at least..."

She found the wits to move one leg upward and plant her knee against his stomach. She pushed hard, sitting up as he stumbled backward. "Shut up," she growled. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I know exactly what this is. Same as your marriage to Lana." She pushed off the table. "You just want to play with Clark's things."

"Really?" His eyes narrowed. "Then how do I explain you? I mean, Clark's never even played with you, not even a little." He looked down. She did, too, seeing the state of her blouse. Only two buttons were hanging on. "Is he blind or just stupid?"

"He's neither," she spat, pulling her blouse closed. "Unlike you, he's too good to use someone for..."

"An orgasm?" Lex suggested, coming nearer again. "I guess he's unlike you, too. You hate me, Chloe. And yet you just came all over my face." He smiled, licking his lips. "Let's not pretend that was anything short of using. Half the reason you want to f*ck me right now is to punish Clark."

She felt an angry flush creeping up her neck. "You're sick. And I'm not going to..."

"Come on now, Chloe," he drawled. "I mean, aren't we at least past the idea that we aren't going to f*ck?" He reached for her blazer and she slapped at his hand. He grasped her hand, taking the other and bringing them behind her back. "You can worry about why you did it later. But I'll know that it's for every touch he never took, every time you put on one your low-cut tops and he didn't even..."

"Get off me."

"I wonder which name you'll scream when I'm inside you," he said, backing her towards the table again. "It would be flattering if it were mine, but I'm pretty sure you'll scream the same thing you do when you're alone, what you've probably almost screamed when you were with Olsen."

She struggled between him and the table. Only the table moved backward, screeching toward the sideboard as his hips pushed into hers. Even as her mind protested the things he said... _She didn't resent Clark. She wanted him to be happy. She did_... her body strained toward him, starved all these years. Because he was right about one thing.

She hadn't been f*cked. There had only been Jimmy. And he'd made love to her with worshiping, grateful eyes. Lex was as far from loving her as anyone could get. And here she was, straining toward him. Why? Because he'd f*ck her... and for no other reason than he wanted to.

"I bet you're used to it, then," she hissed. "I mean, you married Lana, even when you knew she still loved..."

"Let's leave my ex out of this," he cut in, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Doesn't it f*cking piss you off, Chloe?" One hand moved from her wrist to her shoulder, pulling one side of the blazer down. "Wasting all this time on him. It should. He'll never see you for anything more than your mind." She shook as his hand cupped her breast.

How could she really want this? Was he right? Did she want to punish Clark?

Had Lana? On a subconscious level, it would explain why Lana would be with this man. If she were to be honest with herself, something she tried to do as often as possible, then she'd admit that... Well, she could screw the Metropolis Sharks, all of them, and Clark wouldn't blink. But this man... He'd do more than blink. This man was the enemy. He wasn't just Clark's enemy. He was _her_ enemy. After all he'd done to her, how could he be anything but?

_Ethics,_ her mind whispered as his thumb brushed over her nipple. _Pain. _These should keep her from seeing this through. What he'd done to her, to her friends... But her body wasn't so ethical. The way he'd made her feel… it was intense, clutching, dark and sweet.

She swayed against him, not missing the satisfied smile that curled his lips. It was as if all of the romance novels she swore she didn't read were wrong. Maybe sex wasn't supposed to be a tender expression of deep feelings. She'd had tender sex and it had been... Well, it hadn't been this. This was far from tender and she was burning up at the thought of it.

"Sick," she whispered aloud as his thumb rubbed over her bra and the thin material of her blouse. "God, you're sick," she said through clenched teeth, holding his heavy-lidded stare. _I'm sick. I must be..._

"So you've said," he said, his fingers sliding to one of the buttons that still held on. "You and scores of therapists. But what about you, Chloe?" He deftly undid the button and her pulse raced.

Why couldn't he just stop f*cking talking? She was too deep in this now to stop. She needed to feel, not think, and he seemed intent on making this as hard as possible on her. _Well, no more. If he wanted to play..._

"You just love to hear your own voice, don't you?" She pushed him back slightly, letting her fingers curl into his chest. "You seem so focused on whose name drops from my lips. Has that happened?" She smiled. "On those nights with Lana, did she slip? I mean, exactly how many times did that C sound come out, only to be stopped, changed to something else?"

His eyes widened for a moment, before returning to that laziness that was more familiar. "This isn't about..."

"Come on, Lex, you want to talk, we'll talk." She pushed him further and he moved this time. "But why don't we talk about you. I mean, you think you've figured out why I might do this, but what about you? Is it just the challenge of getting someone who hates you into bed? Or is it getting something Clark didn't?"

"Don't you mean wouldn't?" he cut in.

"Or is it deeper than that?" she went on, ignoring him. "Because you feel I, like every woman you've ever touched, would hate myself for allowing it. And you know that. That's what you get off on. You think what you've done with 33.1, with Ares, with so-called freaks, is excusable, noble even. But it's not. You want to subdue and lord over everyone. It's not about helping. Its about power. But here's the thing," She moved away, shrugging off her blazer and dropping it to the floor. "Whatever you've done to me, you haven't changed me. I've been threatened by you, but I don't cower. Because I know someday I'll bring you all the way down. Hell, I've just been touched by you and I'm not curled up in the fetal position crying with self-loathing." She laughed. "Because I needed to come and you... you're just a warm body. You really have no power over me. I could f*ck you eight ways to Sunday without shedding a tear."

She undid the last button on her shirt and pushed it to her shoulders, letting it slide back the rest of the way down her arms and off her fingertips. His eyes followed it down, before moving up again, darting between her face and torso. "And maybe you're right," she said softly. "Maybe I do need a mindless f*ck and maybe you're just the one to give it to me. But I won't be grateful and I won't be sorry. Because you making me come..." She smiled. "You owe me that... and more. So that..." She nodded to the table. "That wasn't me surrendering to your power. That was you giving me something I'm owed. And we're not clear yet." Her hand moved to the side zip on her skirt. She pushed it down slightly and let it hang on her hips. He was still, silent, nearly expressionless. But his eyes, hard to read as they were, were running over her. "What's wrong? You all talk? Don't you want to come over here and pay me?" She tilted her head to the side and watched him, standing . He didn't move, didn't speak. She let out a low laugh. "Thought so."

She turned and moved toward the changing screen that served as a wall to her "room." She moved behind it and pulled her pajamas from under her pillow. "That's the thing about you, Lex," she said through the screen. "Take away your power and you're just deflated. Poor little thing."

She only heard one creak of the floorboard, really. He must be good, because the next thing she knew, there was a hand on her breast, another on her stomach and a hardness that poked the small of her back. "Deflated?"

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Back with more…

Thanks for the follow, **mbrunberg1**, **Redunicorn2**, **mwsc2003** and the favorite, **luv2benerdy.**

As for reviews…

_**CoolNick44**__: Love it! This is definitely one of the best stories to really get Lex and_

_what's in his head._

Thanks! I have to say, of any Smallville POV I've ever written, I always find Lex's to be the most interesting to write.

_**Beautifulcurare**__: Yes! Chloe turned the tables on him completely..."you owe me that and more"...I love it! I love the digs they take at each other, but Chloe won that round :)_

I like making Chloe win. :)

_**sexysiren1981**__: Thanks for the update - love the tension you are creating! You making me_

_salivate waiting for them to actually do the deed... great job! Lex super sexy_

_and just a tad dark - chills running up my spine - wonderful! Cant wait for_

_the next installment. Love,love, love your style of writing, if i could_

_favorite you again I would... ;)_

Aw, thanks. I do like writing Lex dark.

**Chapter 7**

Lex spread his fingers wider across her stomach and pulled her back harder.

"No," she growled, her hands pulling at his arms. He held tighter, a little too attached to the feel of her. "This is over. I win."

"This isn't about winning and losing anymore," he hissed in her ear.

"Then what is it?"

"Damned if I know," he breathed, letting his lips graze the back of her neck. But something had changed the minute she took off her blouse. It was a message. But what did it mean? "What did you think? That your little speech would send me rushing off with my tail between my legs? Why?" He turned her around to face him. "Because you pointed out that I wanted power? That sex is just that - a struggle for power?" He smiled. "I know these things." He'd always known them. Every woman he'd slept with, he'd held the power. The investors' daughters, the endless, nameless women at clubs and parties, Desiree, Helen, too, though he hadn't realized it at the time... "Every woman I've touched... they all wanted something from me: the Luthor name and money." He had the power there. Sex was almost a bargaining tool, though they all lost in the end. "But what do you want?"

Her eyes were steady on his. "I want nothing from you." She pulled backward, but he held tight.

He shook his head. "That's not true. You want something. Do you want to cozy up, get me to confide? Is that it?"

"Jesus Christ!" She pulled away and fell backward, landing on the bed before quickly righting herself. "I could say the exact same thing about you. Why did you start this when we can't..."

"We can," he said, dead serious. "You can't just stuff the worms back into the can, Chloe. It doesn't work that way. But that leaves the question... Why would you? I mean, I know why I would."

"Really? Enlighten me." She crossed her arms. "Because the whys of this entire night are beyond me. Why would you?"

"Because..." _You came for me,_ his mind finished, though he couldn't quite get out the words. It wasn't quite it. He'd made them come before. But he was never quite sure if it was for real. Well, it was real, but all those women with their nails raking up his back and their _God, Lex! Yes, Lex!_ He was never sure if it was him or his money, his name, that was getting them there. But he knew it wasn't money with Chloe. And she'd probably suicide bomb the Planet before taking the Luthor name. She came when coming was the last thing she wanted, but the one thing she needed.

Or maybe it was because of the one thing they had in common. However ethical her approach might be, as compared to his, the both of them had a tendency to not get what they want. And maybe that was why he wanted her, because of that common ground. And it could just be sex, two bodies getting what they need. And it wouldn't be tied up with expectations, with love. Like Lana...

Or maybe he wanted Chloe the way he'd wanted Lana. Something he shouldn't have, didn't deserve, but that he could get, if he just tried harder... Whatever Chloe said, his marriage to Lana hadn't been all about Clark... Of course, the way all lives intersected here, everything was just a little bit about Clark.

But his marriage had been about Lana. So untouchable. How slowly she'd opened up only to shut down again. His honeymoon had been cold, comfortless. After, he'd only got her tacit acceptance of him in bed, a nod to their union, nothing more. He'd known something had changed. He was good at detecting change, subtle undercurrents that shifted in a moment.

Like now. Her upper body leaned away from him, but the lower... It was straining to him. So maybe her little speech hadn't been about chasing him away. Maybe she wanted him to call her bluff. Maybe it had been a message. She didn't have to be drunk on alcohol or lulled by orgasms to do this. She wanted this regardless. She wanted this, as wrong as it was.

Sex. Was it really just that? She wanted sex, but not because it would yield rewards. They both knew there wouldn't be good fruits from this night no matter what. She wanted sex because she needed to come. How novel.

"Does why really matter?" he said, almost to himself. "I want you." And he shouldn't. It should have been enough that he'd made her come, that he could hold it over her the next time she came at him with snarky accusations. But it wasn't enough, not nearly. "If we don't do this we'll always wonder, you know."

She released a shaky breath that tried to pass itself off as a laugh. "Wonder what? How the hell we even got to..."

"How good it might have been." He reached forward, ignoring her slight jump as he ran a finger lightly over her stomach... circling. "Sex with someone you care about is great, but with one problem-that you care about them at all. You care how they feel, you care what they think. You want to make sure it's good so they'll do it again, so you can feel that connection." He knew. He'd been there. It didn't pay off. "But sex with someone you don't love, don't care about," he smiled, "would probably do a jig if the earth swallowed them whole..." He let his finger trace the dip of her waist. "It's freedom. Freedom to take what you want, do what you want, because... You don't care if it happens again, don't even want it to."

He searched her eyes. They were steady yet slightly wild, flicking almost imperceptibly back and forth from him to anywhere else. Her breathing was shallow, shaky...

"If you want to send me away, you could push me now," he said softly. "Say no. Because, even if you make this about me owing you, I still..." He reached for her shoulders. She didn't flinch. "I still want this." The way her skin felt, the creamy expanse of her stomach, and, dear God, he needed to see her nipples. "I want this any way I can get it." It was true. Right about now, his money and power didn't matter. He was just a guy with a hard on. The rest of him was just subordinate to that condition.

"So you..." She swallowed. "You admit it."

His eyes narrowed. Was that the game now? Did she just want him to admit to wanting her? Would she send him away then? He felt her shivering slightly under his hands. She wouldn't. He was nearly sure of it. "Don't you?" Wouldn't it be fan-f*cking-tastic if she'd admit it, too. Out loud. Just say it.

She didn't answer, though. What she did do might have been surprising an hour ago. But things between them had surpassed surprising since then. Now, when she pulled him by the lapels, smashing her lips almost roughly to his, it wasn't a surprise. It was a f*cking revelation.

And he'd take it. What did it matter if she said the words, really? As long as it happened.

She pulled away, her eyes lazy, her lips wet. "Just this once," she breathed.

"If you say so," he said, diving for her mouth again.

**************************

It was so wrong, so disgustingly, beautifully wrong. But she really didn't care at the moment. Just knowing somebody, anybody, wanted her... And it wasn't for research and it wasn't full of demands that she love them and only them. It was just for the moment.

She pulled at his shirt front, waiting for it to give. She'd always wanted to rip a dress shirt open. Now, she could. Because it didn't matter what he thought of her. Their opinions of each other, honestly, couldn't get much worse. She pulled harder, smiling against his mouth when it gave.

He pulled away, looking down at his shirt. "Do you even know what that..."

"Shut up," she growled, pulling it out of his pants, jerking it down his arms.

He pulled away, putting a foot between them and working at his cuffs. "The shirt, I can take, but these cufflinks..." He trailed off, still working at them.

She watched him, wondering at the freedom of this. There were a million reasons not to have sex with your enemy, but one very good one that trumped them all: freedom. He was right about that. She could say and do anything and it didn't matter. She didn't give a flying f*ck what he thought of her and it was just so freeing. All these years, she'd had to be so good for so many people.

For her father... any sign of rebellion and he'd look at her as if she'd snap, like her mother.

And for Clark... always understanding, always ready to drop anything.

With Jimmy... always reassuring, always trying to be so sweet, building him up.

For Lois... always pasting on a smile as she watched her virtually stumble into the things Chloe dreamed of, strove for.

And Lana... always supportive of every bad decision, so ready to look past those tiny betrayals... until now, at least.

That was the thing about Lex. She'd said things to him that, had she said them to someone she truly cared about, where tomorrow actually mattered... Well, she'd be mortified, ashamed.

But with Lex... He could think what he wanted, do what he would. She just didn't care. She didn't have to be or do anything special, not for him. Not tonight. It was heaven - or hell. She couldn't tell which and, once again, she didn't care. "Are you done yet?"

He looked up, lifting an eyebrow. "Are you that anxious? Is this an admission?" His cufflinks fell to her nightstand with a dull clink.

"Not at all." She let her arms drift behind her, reaching up to the clasp of her bra. "But I really am pressed for time. I definitely want you out of here before Lois..."

"Oh, the shame." He cut in as he pulled his undershirt over his head. "Could you just imagine if she found me here?"

"I'd just tell her I was drunk, you know." She let her bra slide down her arms. "You took advantage of me."

"You aren't drunk anym..." His words faded to breath as he stared at her.

He wasn't the only one noticing. He was nearly as toned as Clark, who achieved his physique with no effort whatsoever. Of course, Lex probably had trainers that worked him over for hours. He must pay them well.

"I know your financial situation, but..." His eyes lifted to hers, then fell to her breasts again. "Are you sure those are all..."

"Oh, would you just shut up?" she groaned. She moved toward him, pushing her skirt slightly, letting it slide the rest of the way down. She was not always confident in her body. She thought her hips were too wide, her ankles thick, her hands rough and unfeminine, but her breasts... She knew that they, while not the largest ever, were damn near perfect when unclothed. And she basked in it. He'd probably seen breasts that were a surgical work of art. To see Lex Luthor gaping at hers?

Well, it was heady, to say the least.

"F*cking beautiful tits," he said, nearly reverently.

"Do you want to touch them?" she asked, stopping in front of him. She wanted to grant her body to him like a boon. Just because he wanted it.

"You know I do."

"Go on, then." He looked wary. "No more tricks," she said steadily. "No more games. This happens."

He stepped forward, staring her up and down, reached a hand toward her...

"Wait."

He stepped back, nodding. "I knew it. What do you want to do now? Analyze this moment, as in why I reached with my left when..."

"Oh, please!" She rolled her eyes. "If anyone wants to talk every second, it's you. I've only told you to shut up twenty times and you keep..."

"Fine," he growled. "For once, I talk more than you do. Now what?"

She glared, but let the "for once" slide, even though she knew that Lex probably loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice pontificating. "We don't talk about this, neither of us."

"Like I'd want anyone to know."

"Like _I _would," she shot back. "But that's obvious." She crossed her arms over her breasts, noting his faint look of disappointment. "I know you, Lex. When something's not going your way, you sink low. I just want to know that the next time we're at loggerheads, you won't decide to pull out the _I f*cked you_ card to make this some kind of sick victory for you when this is just a mutual..."

"You think I'd do that?" His eyes were wide, but she knew an act when she saw one.

"I know you would. So say you won't."

His eyes returned to their normal state of half-masted boredom. "Fine. I won't."

"Promise me."

She saw his fists clench slightly. "I promise."

"Swear on your mother's..."

"Jesus, Chloe just..." He didn't finish, just grasped her arms and pushed. Her back hit the bed and he followed her down, pulling her arms away from her breasts. "I promised, okay? Never had to work so hard just to get to Goddamned second base."

She really didn't have anything to say to that, considering he said it all against her breast and the sparks that flew all over her were a little distracting for thought, let alone words. It didn't usually feel so good. She'd thought of her breasts as an amusing plaything for Jimmy, but never something that could make her so... "Mmmph!" Was he actually... licking the underside? She let out a gasp. That was new. He'd probably learned that from one of his many...

She squeezed her eyes shut. She really had to stop comparing him to Jimmy and comparing herself to scores of surgically enhanced debutantes. It only spoiled the sensations.

And there were many. Such as the way his hand kneaded her right breast, thumbing her nipple, while lips, teeth and tongue worked at the left. Her hips rose off the bed without any permission from her.

He started kissing his way downward, but she stopped him, sitting up. They'd already been there once. She knew what happened. She came, he got smug, it got annoying, and they fought. And, for once in her life, she didn't want to fight with Lex Luthor. "Stop."

She pulled upward and he stood, one knee on the bed. "What? Sobering up already?" He stood all the way. "Of course, you never do see things through, so I guess I'm not..."

"God, do you ever shut up?" He started slightly as she pulled at his belt. "I'm considering not seeing things through if I hear one more complete sentence from you." She pulled his belt from the buckle and moved to his button and zipper. She looked up. "Want to get anything else off your chest?"

He closed his mouth and shook his head.

She pushed his slacks down past the boxers that probably cost more than her entire ensemble, now crumpled in various places on the floor. She took a deep breath. "Good."

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the follow, **A Persnickety Haberdashery** (how much do I love your name?), and the favorites, **Heaveninabasket1 **and **RussianKitten991**. And the follow and favorite, **princesse-diva**. :)

_**princesse-diva**__: Oh please... The wait is torture!_

_Please come back with the next installment..._

_Chloe, Lex, & these situations are just the best combinations!_

_i wanna know their thoughts during sex, I hope Lex shuts up, but if he's in_

_Chlo she won't stop the process, lol._

_I'm so honestly dying over here for the next update._

It's been quite a climb to get here. When I was writing this, I was impatient with myself. But I just couldn't stop making them argue! These two! Hmmph!

_**sexysiren1981**__: Wow its just getting hotter! Love the pace you are setting, but if you dont_

_let them do the deed soon I am going to spontainously combust! ha ha ha. Love_

_the story though. I would trade places with Chloe in a heart beat! Please_

_update soon...dont keep me waiting - please!_

I know, I know. I've made you guys wait some time, getting these two into bed. It's just I can't imagine Smallville's two biggest smartypants going at it without a lot of sniping and mutual paranoia preceding it. What can I say? ;)

But the wait is now over!

I kind of, sort of apologize for the excess of naughty language in this particular chapter. I just couldn't see this pairing, at this moment, happening without a lot of naughty words. ;)

**Chapter Nine**

Chloe Sullivan was about to suck his c*ck. It was everything he never knew he'd always wanted. Or had he known?

He'd always wanted to shut her smart mouth for a change. And he had absolutely no complaints about this current method. He threw his head back as her mouth enveloped him. No. He had no complaints at all, as it was. So he closed his mouth. He had the abject fear that if he said a word, she'd either stop or do some sort of permanent damage. Maybe the latter was her plan all along. At the moment, he was nearly more on board with that than with her stopping. When he was this hard, reason, even self-preservation, took a back seat.

Yet he had to look. There was a part of him that didn't like this vulnerability. Because she could... At this moment, if she wanted to, she could make sure he never saw offspring. And yet... there was nothing but suction and the mild scrape of her tongue. His legs nearly gave out. Maybe it was so good because it seemed so dangerous. He didn't really think she'd hurt him. She had her precious ethics. But she wanted to, somewhere in there.

He wondered if she'd even admit it. How good the danger tasted. No. She probably wouldn't. When this was over, she'd probably lament over alcohol and what it made her do. But he'd know. Because it was more than cold comfort here, more than sex mingled with the freedom of hate. It was the danger of a line crossed. He'd spent his entire life dancing on that line, toying with the space beyond it. The experiments, the freaks. It was all for the common good, really, but there were times when it wasn't even about that. To subdue someone powerful, with abilities he couldn't imagine was so... Well, in the end, it was all about the common...

"Good," he whispered aloud as her mouth descended again.

**sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv**

She was good at this. If there was anything her relationship with Jimmy had given her, it was this. To be honest, she'd often move on to the oral quickly, nearly exhausted from his efforts to get her somewhere she just couldn't go. It never really worked, no matter how eagerly he tried. The blow job was just a quick end to things. Jimmy fell into a dead sleep after an orgasm. She hated to admit it, but she had been glad of it. Sex was work. It was a constant mental effort to keep her mind on Jimmy and off... Clark. She could admit it. If she was low enough to suck off Lex Luthor, then her Clark fixation was nearly nothing.

Strangely, she didn't feel low or ashamed. Lex may have started this, but she'd made the decision to finish it. Maybe she should finish it now, like with Jimmy. Just finish him off. It would end here. She came. Then he came. End of story.

And no one had to know.

**sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv**

God, he nearly wished he could tape this moment, replay it over and over. He'd often thought of surveillance in this apartment. But where would the fun be in that? What was the challenge?

Besides, footage would cause a whole new headache.

Would he want the world to know this had happened? No. And she'd want it even less.

For him, it was about power. Everything was. And he'd handed her that power. If she pulled away now, he wasn't sure he could stop himself from begging this tiny blonde to not stop... never stop... That would be a sad thing to have spread around.

But for her, it was worse. He was evil personified to her and her little friends, at least these days. If they knew, they'd see her as used by him, defiled in their eyes.

Defiled.

He liked the word, the way it whispered through his mind with a dark sort of promise.

He let one hand slip downward to her shoulder. It was slightly slick, even on such a cold night. His hand slid down to her shoulder blade, but could go no lower, not unless he wanted to interrupt her actions. He wished he could slide his hands all over her now, defiling every inch of skin with his touch. That's what he did. He defiled, he tainted, he took something sweet and pure and turned it into... into what he'd made Lana.

He looked down, saw her eyes, wide-open and boring into his. That was the difference here. Chloe knew. She'd always known what he was. Lana had stared almost blindly at him, thinking he would be... Well, Clark, really. And Chloe knew that he wasn't. He was no boyscout of a farmer. And Chloe knew it. She wouldn't change. Not over him. Not over anybody. Not even Clark.

He didn't want her to, not really, and it was a startling realization. It broke something inside him. Underneath her hard shell was something good. Something that couldn't be tainted. He let his hand tangle in her hair. Not a push - More of a caress. He didn't mean it to be, but it was.

A _thank you._ Because she could touch him, knowing what he was, what he knew he'd be. Maybe being this close to coming was clouding him, but... That someone so untainted would touch him...

"Chloe," he whispered, brushing the hair off her forehead. "God, Chloe..."

**sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv**

She released him, pulling back, something in his voice putting her on edge. There was a softness. She didn't want that. Not from him. She stood from the bed, pressing herself to him. "I still hate you," she breathed, making sure he knew.

He stared at her in silence for a long time. "I know," he finally said, his hands moving to her hair again, his mouth closing in on hers. "Just please... please..."

She pushed him off, confused and disturbed at the change in him. "No. Don't say please. That's not what you do." It wasn't. He took, she struggled, he still took. Maybe he cajoled a little in between, but it was still taking. She just wanted him to take. She didn't want to give herself to him. That was something she could never do. She wanted to take, too, claim every second of this as something she'd done that was just for her. It wasn't for the good of the world. It was just because it felt f*cking good. And it wasn't helping Clark or Lana or Jimmy.

And it certainly wasn't helping Lex. This was helping no one.

But his eyes, so suddenly soft and pleading... It wasn't how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be f*cking and hate and rough, uncaring hands. Not soft touches or pleading eyes. "I'm having second thoughts, Lex." She moved back, let herself sink to the bed as it hit the backs of her knees. "Why don't we just call it a night?" she finished on a sigh.

He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. It would be amusing on anyone but him. "What the hell are you..." His eyes narrowed now, angry.

"This is just wrong," she cut in. "You and me." She pulled the covers up over her breasts. "I just can't..."

"The f*ck you can't," he growled, bending over her, pulling the covers away, grasping her thighs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. She let him. This was how this was supposed to go. It was what he had promised her. Freedom and pleasure and not giving a f*ck about tomorrow.

She grasped his shoulder, digging her nails in slightly. She smiled slightly. "Maybe I can if you stop being such a wuss."

He smiled, too, though his eyes were still narrowed. "You're such a bitch," he murmured, leaning down. She let him kiss her this time. A rough meeting of lips as he pulled her thighs wider, settling between them, probing at her. She took the hand from his shoulder, letting her nails scrape down his chest before reaching between their bodies.

There was a moment of fear and doubt, even combined with the urgency. She was about to let Lex Luthor inside her. Part of her was whispering barely intelligible louder part was screaming to _do it. Do it now. Or she never would._ She met his eyes, wide and almost scared. They must be mirroring her own. How scary was this?

Like in almost every instance in her life, for better or worse, she responded to fear with insolence. She shifted, positioning him as her eyes held his.

He looked down, then back up at her, his gaze almost questioning. She closed her eyes. She wasn't giving out permission tonight. He would or he wouldn't. She breathed deep, waiting. She nearly wondered if there was some shred of nobility in him. Would he pull away and apologize and gather his clothes, guilt weighing him down? She often fantasized about Clark up to this point. This is when he'd usually cry off, leaving her aching and alone. This was a hard point to get past, even in her wildest dreams. Then again, this wasn't Clark - a point that was made even clearer when he shoved inside hard, in no way going easy on her. Really, she should have expected nothing less.

Her eyes flew open and her hands clutched at the bedding. She stared at the ceiling a moment, adjusting to the shock and the mild pain, before letting her eyes drift back to him. His were closed, his mouth partially open, slightly uneven breaths whispering against her lips.

"You could move," she said. She'd wanted to sound authoritative, but it came out shaky. Everything was shaky. Her damned teeth were even chattering. She tried to close her mouth, stop them.

He opened his eyes, then. They were slightly wide and unfocused before they returned to half-mast, bringing with them the smirk that always seemed so at home on his lips. "I'm sorry, Sullivan. It's obviously been a while for you. You want me to be gentle?"

Her lips formed a thin line as she pushed up against him. _A while_. It hadn't been that long. Was he implying she didn't know how to f*ck? Because she knew... mostly. She obviously knew more than she thought she did, because her movements wiped the smirk off his face as he grunted out "Shit! F*cking tight."

Was she? She really didn't know how she measured up, considering she'd only been with Jimmy. But that didn't mean she didn't know what to do. She was a bona-fide expert at getting it over with. She pushed up again, squeezing him inside her.

He cursed, bringing one hand to her hips, pushing them down. He met her eyes again. "Yeah. Got it."

She didn't get to ask him what exactly he got because he started moving then. A moan tore itself from her mouth as he scraped and thrust inside her. As much as she was a expert at getting it over with, she wasn't quite sure what to do here. This felt... "Ungh! God..." Yeah. This was new.

He groaned deeply into her mouth now and she felt herself pulling at his neck, taking his groans in, joining her own with his as he pulled almost all the way out before plunging back in, their pelvises connecting almost painfully. That was good, too. Then, he was drawing back and thrusting into her now in a pounding, jarring rhythm and it was even better. A part of her wanted to analyze even that. Why was it so good? Was it the hate? Was it the danger? Maybe it was just that someone with as many notches on his belt as Lex probably knew what he was doing.

Of course, thinking just took away from it. She was happy to let her mind stop and let her body just... "Yessss," she hissed as her eyes slid shut.

There was no room for thinking here.

**sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv sv**

God, he was trying. He was trying to just give it to her, get her coming again, focus on getting Chloe Sullivan off with him, of all people, deep inside her. Then these feelings would go away, this strange and unwelcome... gratitude.

He sped up, one hand holding her hips steady as the other grasped her wrist, bringing it up above her head.

He wasn't grateful to be f*cking her. He wasn't. In fact, she was wrong about who owed who. Chloe Sullivan owed him a good f*ck for all the data mining, for all the secrets, for all the times she looked at him with disgust. Was he disgusting now? Her eyes were closed. He didn't want that. He needed to see.

"Look at me," he grunted, even as his hips kept pumping into her.

She didn't. Her eyes squeezed shut harder as her face contorted.

He stilled. "F*cking look at me."

She did, then, her eyes almost angry as they bore into his. "Don't you dare stop," she panted.

But he did, staying still, searching her face as it changed again.

"Lex... please..."

_Desperation_. Chloe Sullivan was desperate for him to f*ck her. Didn't that just beat all?

In a perfect world, he'd stop here. She could know what it was like to be shut out like he'd been. It would teach her, teach all of them. If only she wasn't so f*cking hot and tight and... He started moving again, unable not to. In seconds, he wasn't sure why he had even stopped. Her thighs were sliding up to his waist. Her head thrashing against the bed. The nails on her free hand were digging into his sides... and it hurt like a bitch.

He grasped her wrist, pulling it up and above her head to join the other where they almost dangled off the bed. He realized that his knees were on the floor, that his pants were still around his ankles, and that she was slipping forward, nearly pushing him off what purchase he had on the bed, sideways as they were. He couldn't care less at the moment. He held her wrists tight, keeping his position, their position, as he jerked his hips forward.

She was almost whimpering now. He shut his mouth tight. He didn't want to let it out. Let her be the one who was...

"Oh, f*ck," he breathed as she tightened around him, fairly fluttered around him. Her insides gripping and vibrating around his c*ck. It was good. Too good. He was nearly worried he'd come just short of her when she suddenly rose up off the bed, her body bending upwards, stiffening as a hot surge of wetness coated him inside her. It was the end for him. He followed, collapsing on her lightly shuddering chest, his hips jerking spasmodically as he emptied inside her.

**TBC**

_Morning after to come…_


End file.
